I pressed my forehead against the cold seat trying to find some relief, my head was spinning and it was making me nauceous. I awoke from yet another allergy pill induced slumber. It's not easy for me to sleep anymore these days. In my head I kept hearing a phone ringing, and ringing and ringing, furthering the spinning in my head. It was probably because of Eddie. I've been ignoring him since the club brawl. He's probably just trying to check on me to see if I was ok, but I just wasn't in the mood.

Recently, I've just been going out clubbing. A lot. I've been hanging out with Madonna. I ran into her at the studio one day and we got to talking. She's actually not that bad of a person and she's actually somewhat talented. She had a very creative mind, if the bitch took her sex drive down a few pegs she wouldn't be that bad. Anyway we went out clubbing with her and I somehow ended up higher than a kite off of reefer. And from the way i'm feeling, I don't think weed and pills mix.

I looked up and my driver was staring at me with a pained look on his face. "Would you like any helping getting into the house ma'am?"

I shook my head at his offer, when I finally found the energy to pull myself out the car. I felt like I was completely numb trying to search for the right key on my key ring. It felt like my body was just a weight and I felt like dropping right where I was. I felt like I could barely keep my eyes open, most likely from the drowsy effect that my allergy pills had. I looked out and saw the sun coming over the horizon. I guess slept in the van last night, it had to be about 6:00 in the morning. I felt really bad because my driver was there all that time waiting for me to wake up. I mentally cursed myself for being so selfish, it's not like I tried to but that was still awful of me.

I opened the door, and looked around my dark, empty. I heard the pitter patter of paws and I saw three of my kittens run at my legs as I closed the door behind me. My heart fluttered as I bent down to play with them.

"Hey babies." I horsed out, kissing the top of each of their heads. My mouth feels really dry, I haven't said anything in the past 2 days. Granted, that I have sung plenty. "Where are the rest of you?"

I picked them up and, made my way into the living room. Boy did they feel heavier than usual. I saw they were cuddled on the couch with each other.

I awed at the sight. My clock said 6:15. I had an appointment with my anger management therapist at 8:00. It was set up by my PR manager, after she decided to lecture me like I was 15, for three hours. because of what happened. I need to be more professional. I need to act my age. She's putting me in anger management blah blah blah. I hate it when people say that. Act Your Age. I don't know how to act my age this is the first time Ive been this age, sorry if I'm a little bit of a novice.

There was no need for me to even drag myself upstairs to even to sleep, not that I had the strength anyway. So I decided to stay by my kittens side and watch them sleep peacefully until it was time to take a shower. I almost cried at the sight of little Nefertiti yawning, she just as innocent as ever, animals warmed my heart. Just like nature did. I think I needed to get away from the L.A. scene for a while. I needed to go home and ground myself. I miss my family, I miss the woods. I have so many great friend. Why am I still alone? I don't get it.

"Who do you, who do you? bah bah." I heard drums in my head. "Who do you, who do you, who do you think you are?" I sang, quietly. I didn't wanna belt and ruin the quietness of the house. "Haha ha ha. Bless your soul...You really think you're in control."

I reached under the couch cushion, careful not to wake up my babies, and pulled out my notebook. I keep several of them stashed around the house. You never know when inspiration could strike you.

I jotted down a few notes as I was humming the melody. However I found myself stuck on the lyrics I kept repeating.

Does that make me crazy?

Does that make me crazy?

Does that make me crazy?

"Possibly." I mumbled to myself. I started flipping through the my notebook. I don't use this one much. I have so many of them I have random songs or even pieces of them written in various notebooks around the house. Maybe one day, I'll start giving songs away. I don't think I'll start until my thirty's, when I slow down. Maybe get married have some kids.

I turned the page to see a song, full written out. It had a lot of scribbles, the writing went from cursive to print, pen to pencil. I must've taken my time with this song.

I wonder if you think of me
Somewhere in the shadows of your mind
Although our love could never be
I find I think about you all the time

Am I in your fantasies
The way you always wander into mine
And are you longing endlessly
Just like me deep inside

[Chorus:]
When the nights are dark and cold
Do you think of me
Do you think of me
And when you're lying all alone
Do you think of me
Do you think of me
When you feel the touch of another love
Do you think of me
Do you think of me
Am I the one you're dreaming of
Do you think of me
Do you think of me

I picture you embracing me
We drift away and leave the world behind
But it's only make-believe
Love can be so unkind

[Repeat Chorus:]

I had tears in my eyes after reading it. This wouldn't fit this album but for sure next album this song is getting recorded.

"I'm spiraling..." I pulled my knees to my chest. "I'm fucked."

I continued to flip through the pages and I fell upon a heart shaped piece of paper.

In Case I Piss You Off:
Until You Like Me Again...The Most Beautiful Girl In The World.

I picked it up and saw a drawing of a key underneath it. Surprisingly, Prince is a good artist. I remember teasing him saying the only thing he couldn't do was rock a crop top and he's spent all year proving me wrong, the smug bastard.

I flipped the paper over.

They say true love's the greatest weapon, to win the war caused by pain. But every diamond has imperfections and what we have is too pure to watch it chip away. Mama nothing real can be threatened, I read your poems when you were sleeping in my arms. You should really hide things better. You said that your mother told you that true love breathes salvation back into you, that with every tear came redemption. Although your mad at me now, we're gonna heal.

We're gonna start again.

I smiled, I heard him saying all of this in my head. Then I frowned again. "He knew. He knew he would tear me the fuck apart."

I ripped up the letter and tossed it to the side.

After about an hour of watching them sleep it was finally 7:00. I decided to go shower and get ready do whatever the fuck I had ahead of me.

I dragged myself up the stairs and into the shower. The sweet bliss of a showers, I can get clean, think about my life, and my vocals sound studio quality in here.

As I got dressed I could help but think about what anger management would be life. I wasn't really too open to talking to someone about my feelings, not about why I'm mad. They talk to you like your a crazy person. I don't need therapy, whatever problems I'm having I can deal with on my own. It's been damn near 21 years and I'm fine.

I stepped into my heels and spritzed me neck with perfume. "I'm fine..."

The drive was more than awkward, my driver who had just saw me fucked up no more than an hours ago, is now driving me to therapy.

Kill. Me. Now.

I put my headphone in and clicked on my Walkman, and stared out the window trying to get lost in my thoughts.

I walked into the building, and saw that it was completely empty, except for the reception lady, who was staring at me with a unusually wide smile on her face.

"You are not a crazy person..You are not a crazy person." I took a deep breathe and walked up to the counter.

I opened my mouth to speak but she beat me to it.

She shot up out her seat. "Miss Jasmyn, we've been expecting you."

I forced a smile on my face. "Ok."

I followed her back into a room and she told me lay back on a seat. I felt humiliated, I didn't want anyone to see me this way.

A women walked in, black woman. Brown skin, long straight dark hair. She was beautiful. She paused looking me once over. "Hi!" she held her hand out to me and I gave it a firm shake.

"Hi...." I mumbled.

She chuckled lowly, taking her seat "Anger management?...You look to sweet to hurt anybody."

I cut my eye. "Looks can be deceiving."

"They can..." she smiled, clutching her clipboard to her chest. "You know I used to have problem with my anger for a long time and I found that through-"

"Look let me stop you right there.." I swung my feet to the floor and crossed them. "I don't know who you think I am or what you think this is but I don't need to be here NOR do I want to be here. I don't have to talk to you and I don't want to talk to you. I'm not here by choice, ok. I was forced. I've had a really long week and I would really  appreciate some peace and fucking quiet."

She squinting at me, nodding her head. "Ok...when you want to talk. I'm here..." she sat back.

I enjoyed five minutes of silence, before she opened her mouth again. "How's your new album going, there a lot of anticipation about it."

"It's going good, very well. A lot of self discovery."

"Do you still love music? Like you did when you were a little girl."

"Of course I do...it's just the business that get to you sometimes I guess. Ya'know...money and art don't mix well."

She nodded and made a few notes on her clipboard. "Would you say your mad at the state of the music business...."

"I'm not...mad at the state of the music business, the 80s is probably going to go down in history as one of the Golden Ages of music, next to the 60s and 70s of course. We're quiet a revolutionary decade. The aesthetic of this decade is like no other, it's like we've been building up to this, musically at least. We've been introduced to some of the most talented souls in the world. I mean have you heard Whitney Houston? Her voice is beautiful. I've met her a could of times." I stepped out my heels and swung my feet back over into the chair. "She's a sweetheart, a very vibrant person. She hasn't been beat down by the business yet. She's still fresh..." The I chuckled to myself. "Look at me talking about her like she's not older than me..."

"I forget that sometime too. Some therapist come in and.." She yawned, stepping out her heels as well. "Their fresh out of college and they don't know how stressful this job can be. Having to deal with everyone's attitude, and worst of all everyone's a critique."

"I know!!" I shot up, suddenly fired up. "That's the only thing I hate about music is someone that has nothing ABSOLUTELY nothing to do with the creative process, tells me whether my music is good or not. The music is good upon creation. Creating for something from nothing is an amazing thing and people take that for granted. People take a lot of things for granted." I sighed. "People take good people for granted."

She titled her head to the side, and pulled her legs into her chair Indian style. "Tell me about your relationship with your father..."

"What does he have to do with anything?"

"Most girls, when they have mental issues of any kind. It usually starts with the relationship or lack of relationship with their father."

I shrugged, she was right. "What's your name?"

"Dr. Peterson but....you can call me Angela.."